


when I live my dream

by shallows



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Social Media, Famous!Sander, Fluff, M/M, Musician!Sander, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Youtuber!Robbe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22322245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shallows/pseuds/shallows
Summary: He scrolls down the notifications, growing more and more confused the further he goes down the list. From his broers, to his flatmates, to random people he hasn’t talked to since high school and barely even knows, it seems like everyone remembered he exists now and wants desperately to get his attention.Because that’s undeniably Robbe’s face on Sander Driesen’s official Twitter account.OR: The one where Sander is famous and Robbe isn't, but their story still happens due to the power of social media.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 162
Kudos: 715





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> I usually write angsty fics, so this one is my attempt at a more lighthearted and fun journey. Which means that eventually it will most likely become angsty too. In this fic Robbe and Sander meet two years in the future. Enjoy!
> 
> (If you're here, you know where the title is from ;) )
> 
> Disclaimer: All usernames used in this fic were completely made up and don't represent anyone in fandom at all!
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](https://evenbechnaesheim.tumblr.com/).

Saturday 04/06/2022

**From: Jens (17:05)**

man wtf?

_Jens sent a link._

have you seen this?

**From: Broerrrs (17:06)**

Moyo: Dudes.

Aaron: skdjfhgfjkslkdjflsdkf?????

Moyo: I know, man, I fucking know!

Jens: is this for real right now?

Aaron: skdjfkldkLAKSJDFKDDK

Moyo: Where the fuck is Robbe

**From: Milan (17:14)**

ROBBE

ROBBE IJZERMANS

I’VE BEEN KNOCKING ON UR DOOR FOR 5 MINUTES WHERE R U

ROBBE!!!!

**From: Jana (17:25)**

unrelated but I hope you know you’re one of my best friends and you’re so GREAT, literally best person on earth

can you get me tickets?!

**From: Jens (17:41)**

man seriously the broers are freaking out right now

where are you?

**From: Broerrrs (18:04)**

_Moyo sent a photo._

Moyo: Dudes, we just went up 3k followers in 1h what the fuck.

Aaron: ssldkjfkdlkfjsskdfjkfd

**From: Flatfam (18:23)**

Milan: has anyone seen Robbe???

Senne: Saw him go out earlier. He said something about his mom. Why?

Milan: why?? WHY????? IT’S SELF-EXPLANATORY SENNE

_Milan sent a link._

Zoë: oh my god

**From: Broerrrs (19:00)**

Moyo: 2 hours, 12k followers, this is not a drill!

Jens: mate…

Aaron: skdjfdkkfjkdl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**From: Amber (19:05)**

Robbe, I hope you know this is the perfect opportunity to build a connection and get you all the way to Hollywood. I’d be really good at managing your career. You’d be more famous than Zendaya in my hands. Call me!

**From: Flatfam (19:07)**

Zoë: do you think he’s seen it by now?

Senne: Everyone’s talking about it on insta and twitter, there’s no way his phone isn’t blowing up.

Zoë: a girl I barely know from high school just messaged me asking if I still talk to robbe

Senne: Trying to find an in lol

Lisa: What’s everyone freaking out about?

Milan: for fuck’s sake lisa CHECK THE LINK!!

Lisa: ?

Lisa: I don’t even know who that person is.

Milan: HOW- LISA HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW

Milan: I DON’T EVEN WANT TO TALK TO YOU RIGHT NOW

**From: Broerrrs (19:33)**

Jens: broers, we’re almost at 20 thousand followers

Aaron: slkdjklsdkfjklskfjkldjfhjdks

Moyo: It’s official, this broke Aaron. I don’t think he’s breathing anymore.

Aaron: LSKDJFHJOSDFJKDLSDKFJK

**From: Luca (19:39)**

niiiiiiiiice, man

do you think you could get him to promote my toilet business? he already knows a lot about bleach :p

**From: Yasmina (19:45)**

Hey, just saw what’s going on. I hope everyone isn’t suffocating you right now. Let me know if you want to have dinner today, no phones involved :)

*

Robbe blinks at his phone and stops on his tracks halfway up the stairs to his apartment.

Spending a few hours with his mama with his phone on silent seemed like a good idea at the time. With university and the broers’ Youtube endeavors taking so much of his time, they had been due for a catch up for a while now, and Robbe decided he owed it to his mama at least a few hours of uninterrupted time. But looking at the dozens, upon dozens, _upon dozens_ of notifications on his phone makes it obvious this was the worst possible moment to disconnect from social media for an extended period.

He scrolls down the notifications, growing more and more confused the further he goes down the list. From his broers, to his flatmates, to random people he hasn’t talked to since high school and barely even knows, it seems like everyone remembered he exists now and wants desperately to get his attention.

He swipes away the chat notifications from everyone he doesn’t normally talk to, because having 30+ almost strangers trying to talk to him at once is way too overwhelming. Especially for someone like Robbe who barely gets noticed by anyone on a regular basis. He also swipes away all the Instagram and Twitter notifications to look at later, baffled that it takes him so much time to close them all when in the past he barely got anyone interacting with him via these platforms. Then he decides to tackle the madness by going to the best source first.

He opens his text thread with Jens and clicks the provided link, and he’s sure if he had still been walking up the stairs he would’ve probably fallen flat on his face the minute it loaded.

Because that’s undeniably Robbe’s face on Sander Driesen’s official Twitter account.

Robbe blinks at his phone. Closes his eyes, opens them, and then blinks some more for good measure.

Sander Driesen - _the_ Sander Driesen: most talked about Belgian celebrity in 2021, one of the most popular musicians of the year worldwide, expected to be one of the most influential young people of the decade, and also internationally known for bold, emotional and highly praised street art - tweeted about Robbe - _Robbe,_ who’s in the middle of finishing his second semester at university and surviving on crossed fingers and ramen noodles, who rotates between the same two outfits because he’s too stressed and university-broke to do better, who’s a wannabe youtuber with his best friends and has a total of 203 followers on Instagram compared to Sander Driesen’s 31 _million_. Robbe, who should not, under any circumstances, have even been on Sander Driesen’s radar and catch his attention enough for him to put Robbe’s face anywhere near his public social media.

And call him cutie. What the actual fuck?

Robbe clicks on Sander Driesen’s Twitter username, needing to make sure this is real. But there’s no denying it. Sander Driesen’s name is verified and his 4.6 million followers on Twitter are right there along with his 1 following that consists of David Bowie’s official Twitter account. And there Robbe’s face is, the 6th tweet after only 4 announcing tour dates and 1 thanking the fans for their support. 

Robbe is so shocked that he slides down to sit on the stairs and just stares at his phone dumbly until it vibrates again and he almost drops it. It’s Noor and he quickly opens the chat.

**From: Noor (20:11)**

new bf alert, calling it right now ;)

u can thank me later!

_Noor sent a link._

Robbe swallows down hard and clicks on the link Noor sent which takes him right back to Sander Driesen’s tweet about Robbe (seriously, how weird is that?). This time, however, there’s a reply to it from Noor’s twitter account.

Noor Bauwens @thenoorbauwens . Jun 4, 2022  
replying to @sanderdriesen  
\- you can find him @sterkerdanijzer here and on instagram. he’s a cutie in real life too ;)

Robbe checks the time and sees that Noor’s reply was just sent a few seconds ago. It doesn’t take long at all for his phone to start pinging again after that.

**Twitter (2s ago)  
** @sanderdriesen followed you back!

**Instagram (1s ago)  
** earthlingoddity started following you.

Well, fuck. Robbe might need a minute to process what’s happening right now. Or a goddamn year. Because not only is Sander Driesen way too famous to even breathe the same air as Robbe let alone be following him anywhere, he was also Robbe’s sexual awakening when he first entered the music charts in Belgium and the sight of his bleached hair on tv was enough to turn Robbe’s insides to mush. And he was supposed to stay like that: something intangible that helped Robbe come to terms with how gay he really is but that he’d never actually have to face on a serious note. Ever. Sander Driesen wasn’t supposed to find out Robbe exists among the millions of people trying to get his attention every single day. And he definitely wasn’t supposed to single Robbe out and put him in the spotlight like this. What’s Robbe even supposed to do with this situation?

His phone pings again.

**Instagram (1s ago)  
** earthlingoddity liked your post.

 **Instagram (1s ago)  
** earthlingoddity liked your post.

 **Instagram (1s ago)  
** earthlingoddity liked your post.

 **Instagram (1s ago)  
** earthlingoddity liked your post.

 **Instagram (1s ago)  
** earthlingoddity liked your post.

Robbe’s heart is in his throat, he thinks he’s probably close to passing out.

It’s not even that he’s a big fan of Sander Driesen - he _is_ kind of a fan: a fan of his face and his eyes and his hair and his voice and his art, but he doesn’t really follow everything about his work the way people who actually call themselves his fans do.

Sure, Robbe has his debut album in CD format that Jens gave it to him as a joke after Robbe came out to him and told him Sander Driesen was a big reason why he knew he was into guys. And he has a poster of the singer hidden away at the bottom of his closet, that he may or may not look at from time to time, given to him by Moyo and Aaron for the same reason. And okay, maybe he has all of Sander Driesen’s songs saved on his spotify account. Maybe he listens to them at night when he’s alone because his voice is so smooth and nice. Robbe has no problem admitting that, while he doesn’t usually listen to this genre, Sander Driesen’s music is actually good and there’s clearly a reason he’s so popular besides his stunning (and gay awakening) looks.

But Robbe isn’t a fan. He doesn’t talk or think about him 24/7. He has never even been to any of his concerts despite the fact that Jana has been obsessed with him for many months now and dragged Jens to the last one he gave in Antwerp. 

Still, having one of the objects of his sexual awakening, who’s also incredibly famous, pay him attention in this way is a little too much for Robbe. He can’t even get regular boys to consider hooking up with him. His last kiss was with a girl who became one of his best friends after he came out to her two years ago, and that says a lot about how invisible he is to the male public in general. So how on earth is this happening?

His phone pings again.

**Instagram (1s ago)  
** earthlingoddity left a comment on your photo: “I’ve been told I make the best croques ever, you should try them sometime ;)”

Robbe gapes. He hesitates before clicking the notification and sure enough it leads him straight to the photo of him eating croques with Jens, where Robbe had called himself the sexiest croque eater, of all things.

At this point, Robbe starts thinking that he’s probably being made fun of, for some inexplicable reason, by a celebrity who apparently has nothing better to do than to mess with him. Why else would _Sander Driesen_ tweet about Robbe? Why would he follow him, go through his photos and drop likes like they’re nothing, and then leave this kind of comment? Sander doesn’t even follow his on-and-off, equally as famous girlfriend, pop singer Britt Ingelbrecht, on twitter, but he now follows Robbe. This has to be an elaborate prank. It has to.

His phone pings again and this time it keeps pinging. Robbe sees the notifications come through like a car crash: it’s terrible and scary and he cannot look away. From the looks of it, it seems like Sander’s massive following found Robbe and wants a taste of his attention as well. It’s all becoming too much too fast.

Robbe isn’t proud of it, - he’ll definitely think about it with embarrassment later on, because he’s nearly 19 years old and going through college, for fuck’s sake, he shouldn’t let these things get to him anymore - but when his phone pings one too many times for him to handle, he just shuts it off completely and lets himself fully slide down the stairs until he’s lying on them, the curve of the steps digging into his back and his blacked out phone digging even harder into his hand. And he just stays there for some long moments, staring at the ceiling with his heart beating fast and hard on his chest.

Robbe didn’t let his rocky coming out journey make him want to go live somewhere in the north pole, but he thinks he might start planning that life now. At least over there they don’t have internet and social media and hot celebrities trying to ruin young boys’ lives.

Right?

*

**Tumblr user sanderschmander posted a text:  
** guys i’m losing my shit. sander really said “i’m horny on main for random boys on youtube” right in front of my salad

**Tumblr user sanderseyebrows posted a text:  
** When I clicked the notification for Sander’s new tweet this is NOT what I was expecting.

**Tumblr user crackedbowielicious posted a text:  
** who would’ve thought i’d be here watching the vlogs of 4 belgian boys without understanding a single word they’re saying just because sander driesen tweeted about it?

**Sarah is a Sander Driesen love bot @sdriesenstan on twitter (2h ago)**  
i’m going feral?? did sander really just tweet THAT?

ella loves sander @earthlingoddity03 . 2h  
replying to @sdriesenstan  
Omg what’s happening! Do you think that’s his boyfriend????????

under pressure @sanderb0wie . 2h  
replying to @sdriesenstan   
[ _gif of a man screaming_ ]

**Instagram user _slytherinsander_ posted a story.**  
[ _screenshot of Sander’s tweet, overlayed with the text: @earthlingoddity KING CAN YOU PLEASE EXPLAIN THIS_ ]

**mia is stressed out @eboysander on twitter (15m ago)**  
does anyone know who this boy is? on youtube it just says his name is robbe

e. @midnightdriesen . 6m  
replying to @eboysander  
I have no idea but I ship it already!!!!!!

sam | tkj spoilers @sam_arts . 1m  
replying to @eboysander   
a girl just commented on sander’s tweet that he’s @sterkerdanijzer

**Tumblr user sanderdrisenn posted a text:**  
So we know who that guy Sander tweeted about is now. Please remember to respect his privacy. Don’t be weirdos.

  
  


**Instagram user brittingelbrecht2 (verified) posted a photo.**  
[ _Photo of a blackboard with the text: Life is too short for bad coffees._ ]

**Instagram user sanders_docmartens replied to brittingelbrecht2’s post.**  
sis.... is this about sander lmao

**lara @sanderxbrltt on twitter (5s ago)**  
can you guys shut up about sander being into this guy? he literally just liked his youtube channel. you guys are so annoying, sander isn’t gay

mal @_spidermansander . 1s  
replying to @sanderxbrltt  
he’s pansexual susan he sure ain’t straight

**Buzzfeed posted an article:** “Sander Driesen Tweeted About An Unknown Youtuber And Here’s Why We’re All Losing Our Minds”

_Excerpt: Driesen is known for his bleached hair, being the object of many teenagers’ wet dreams, soulful stage performances and mindblowing street art. But what he isn’t known for is a big social media presence. In his two years of worldwide fame he tweeted a total of 5 times and his Instagram account was dry more often than not, even if he posted enough to warrant him a whopping total of 31 million followers. So what is it about this random Belgian youtuber I bet none of you have even heard of before that made Mister “I’m too cool for social media” finally come out and play? We don’t know yet, but we can’t wait to find out!_


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the feedback on the first chapter!! Here's another one, hope you enjoy it :)

Robbe manages to get through his apartment and into his room without being accosted by his housemate Milan, but only just. He locks his door and falls on the bed with his laptop, rolling on the mattress to grab his trusted headphones off the floor and blast his music as loud as it goes to drown out the sound of Milan frantically knocking on the door, begging to be let in.

Of course, it’s just Robbe’s luck that the first song his playlist chooses is one of Sander Driesen’s, because Robbe apparently can’t know peace anymore. He quickly scrambles for the mouse to change the song, almost falling off the bed in the process, and breathes a sigh of relief when Stormzy starts playing instead.

Robbe tries to focus on the music, to think about anything other than that tweet and Sander Driesen. But his eyes keep drifting to his nightstand where he dropped his phone earlier hoping to be able to forget it exists for a while. His hand is itching to grab it again, to scroll through the madness of notifications and see everything everyone is saying. His brain, thankfully still working properly, is screaming at him to not do it; after all, this is too weird and too much and he needs to _not_ take any part in it. At least not any more than he already has, even if unwillingly.

He closes his eyes and tries to count to ten. But three seconds in he’s already peeking through his right eye at his phone, annoyingly curious despite himself. He loses the battle quicker than he’ll ever admit to anyone, but at least he’s still sane enough to leave his phone be and open Twitter and Instagram on his laptop instead.

The first thing he does once the pages load is deactivate notifications from everyone he doesn’t follow and immediately sigh in relief. Then he opens that tweet again and just stares at it.

In the time it took Robbe to pick himself off the stairs and get to his room, the tweet reached 100 thousand likes. And the numbers keep climbing at a fast rate. A quick glance at the trends on the sidebar unsurprisingly shows Sander Driesen at number 1. Robbe has his trending page set to Belgium, so he quickly changes it to worldwide only to see that the musician’s name is trending at the top there as well.

Sander Driesen is the topic of the moment on social media. And, by consequence, Robbe is too.

Robbe chews on his bottom lip, mild anxiety making his chest feel tight. It’s one thing to do fun challenges with his best friends and upload them on Youtube for a crowd of a few thousand people. It’s a completely different thing to somehow become part of a worldwide trend in a matter of a few hours, without making a conscious decision about it. Robbe thinks he might dislike Sander Driesen a little bit now for doing this to him.

The musician is used to fame. For all that Robbe knows, he actively chose it. Being in the spotlight must be easy for him. He likely even thrives in it the way celebrities generally do. This prank on Robbe, or whatever it is, probably didn’t mean much to him besides a bit of fun during a long and boring flight. Robbe is going to wake up tomorrow to the entire Antwerp population wanting a piece of him just for the sensationalism of the situation, while Sander Driesen will have moved on to another target while sitting in his million dollar mansion all the way in California, surrounded by eccentric and useless things, and dozens of people who adore him and kiss the ground he walks on. (Robbe doesn’t actually know where Sander Driesen lives, but he imagines it must be somewhere popular and expensive. That’s where all big celebrities live, right?)

Robbe stares at the tweet for so long that his eyes burn a little from the artificial glow of the laptop. He feels bereft, unsure of what to do. He knows he probably shouldn’t engage at all, should just let the situation fizzle away like it all does on the internet. Social media has a very short memory and even shorter attention span. Robbe is 18 and internet savvy; he’s been part of this culture enough to know that people will go back to having no idea who he is in a matter of days if he just lets it go.

But there’s a tiny part of him, the small one with backbone and gray morals, that still wants to call Sander Driesen out on messing with him. Robbe figures he has the right to let that part loose every once in a while. And right now, it feels like the perfect moment.

He stills himself and grabs his phone again, filled with resolve and determination. His leg shakes up and down while he waits for it to turn on, restless. The new notifications waiting on his phone get ignored for the sake of opening the Instagram app. He types Sander Driesen’s username on the search bar (what kind of pretentious name is earthlingoddity, really?) and opens his profile, preparing himself to slide into his DMs and give him a (polite, because his mama taught him well) piece of his mind.

He stops dead on his tracks when he sees that Sander Driesen has messaged him first.

Robbe feels his cheeks heat up, in an instant completely forgetting that he was about to tell Sander Driesen off. Once again he’s left speechless and flustered, looking at his phone with his mouth parted and not knowing what to do with himself. The musician seems to have the ability to ruin Robbe’s life with the simplest words, even when they’re miles away from each other, not even part of the same world.

It makes him feel embarrassed and silly that his heart stumbles a little. Robbe is not sure if he's feeling this way because there’s a cute boy flirting with him or because said cute boy is a celebrity he had a mild crush on for years, and it scares him. There’s a fine line there he’s terrified to cross, and he’s back to wishing he’d just let this go like he wanted to from the start. This is not a path he should walk down, though it feels unfairly tempting to see what more is up ahead.

He shakes his head and quickly closes Instagram, locking his phone and putting it upside down on top of the bed. Robbe stares at it again, biting his lip in concentration, and the damned thing seems to stare right back, daring him to do something.

Moments later, like he really lost the ability to stop himself from doing dumb things, he grabs his phone again, unlocks it and goes back to Instagram and his chat with Sander Driesen. Then he closes the app again, takes a deep breath, and feels like the silliest boy on Earth.

Why does this whole thing seem so important? Why can’t he just let it go? It’s not because Sander Driesen is famous that Robbe has to engage with him. Robbe should just treat him like he did all those guys on Grindr who messaged him when he wasn’t ready or willing. He should just delete the app from his phone and go back to normal life with his flatmates and his broers, quickly forgetting every message he received. So why can’t he do that now?

He opens his chat with Jens instead.

**To: Jens (22:03)**

what do I do??

**From: Jens (22:04)**

finally!

what happened to you?

what do you mean what do you do?

**To: Jens (22:04)**

_You sent a photo._

**From: Jens (22:05)**

he’s flirting with you

what’s the problem here?

**To: Jens (22:06)**

what’s the problem??

jens

it’s SANDER DRIESEN

in dms for no reason

**From: Jens (22:07)**

it’s not for no reason robbe he’s flirting

flirting is the reason

and yeah man it’s sander driesen a guy i know you think is cute

flirt back dumbass  


**To: Jens (22:09)**

are you out of your mind? what the hell would i flirt back for???

**From: Jens (22:09)**

do I have to spell it out for you?

BECAUSE he seems to be into you

and maybe you can finally fuck someone and get it out of your system

**To: Jens (22:10)**

i’m not going to have sex with sander driesen what the fuck!

and he’s not into me

this is a stupid joke

**From: Jens (22:11)**

maybe

but you won’t know for sure until you see where it goes right?

**To: Jens (22:12)**

i don’t want to see where it goes jens

i just want everything to go back to normal

**From: Jens (22:12)**

whatever you say dude

but even if it’s a joke on his part don’t you want to see how far he takes it?

just flirt back

what’s the worst that can happen?

you discovering that he’s a regular human being?

falling in love and living happily ever after?

**To: Jens (22:14)**

ha ha. funny.

**From: Jens (22:14)**

seriously man

it’s not that deep

and do you see how many followers this got us on youtube?

help your broers out robbe

and have some fun while you’re at it

Robbe mulls over what Jens said. His best friend is definitely wrong about Sander Driesen being interested in Robbe, this he knows for sure. They know nothing about each other besides who they are as an internet persona, and there’s really just no way. But he might be right about one thing: what harm could it do if Robbe got in on the joke instead of being the butt of it?

The smart part of him knows that letting it go is still the best option. One tweet and an Instagram comment brought him a lot of attention, but they are still of little consequence in the greater scheme of things. If he leaves it at that, people will forget quickly. No one will even know about the DM. The singer will go back to making his cryptic posts with song lyrics Robbe doesn’t know and likely unfollow Robbe when he tires of the joke, and everything will go back to normal.

But Robbe has tried to let it go and has clearly not been able to. And telling Sander Driesen off no longer feels like a good option.

In a parallel universe lives a Robbe who’s a genius and takes the moral high ground by moving on from Sander Driesen before anything can be started. In fact, in another parallel universe lives a Robbe who’s so smart that he doesn’t even have social media in the first place. Robbe is very proud of those versions of himself. But he guesses that if they’ve done it, then he doesn’t have to either. He figures that he might as well be the Robbe who dives head first into the mess just to see what comes out of it.

Like Jens said, he might as well have some fun.

He inhales sharply and opens Instagram for the umpteenth time and goes through the process of opening his DMs with Sander Driesen all over again. He stares at the messages, feeling himself blush again as he rereads them.

He has to admit that the musician has a lot of game. Robbe’s sure that if it were just a regular boy saying these things to him, someone who was more in his league and could actually potentially be into him, Robbe would likely be tripping all over himself, giggly and flushed from the attention. He can imagine a parallel universe where Sander Driesen isn’t famous and still flirts with him - in that universe, Robbe knows he’d be dumb enough to believe there was something there.

In this universe, though, he’s self-aware enough to recognize the joke and not let his heart fall for it.

Sander Driesen is gorgeous, and talented, and clearly capable of spewing out pretty words that instantly sweep boys and girls off their feet. But Robbe is a realist with his feet planted on solid ground. He’s not interested in looking for life on Mars when real life is happening right here on planet Earth. There’s no way he can be shaken by some flirting, just because it’s coming from a boy with striking green eyes and hypnotizing white hair.

Robbe will engage, he will flirt, he will mess with Sander Driesen right back. Robbe will let himself have some harmless fun and come out of it with an anecdote for the ages.

He rolls his shoulders in preparation and taps the screen to start writing a reply to Sander Driesen’s DMs, but then stops himself. The singer made his first interaction with Robbe as public as it could be and it seems unfair for Robbe’s comeback to not be just as public as the thing that created this whole situation.

Robbe smiles to himself a little wickedly. He’s generally soft-spoken and considerate, so it isn’t often that he lets himself indulge in a little play the way he’s about to do now. He figures he has the right to enjoy it for what it is.

He clicks back to the Instagram homepage. Hesitates only for a moment before going to his own profile and clicking his photo with Jens that Sander Driesen commented on. He bites his lips to hold back a grin, and gets ready to play along.

*

**Instagram user driesenfan99 replied to sterkerdanijzer’s reply to earthlingoddity.**  
ASKDFJKDL OMG??

**Instagram user earthlingoddities replied to sterkerdanijzer’s reply to earthlingoddity.**  
[ _eye emoji repeated 7 times_ ]

**Instagram user xo.sanderdriesen.xo replied to sterkerdanijzer’s reply to earthlingoddity.**  
this date better fucking happen

**Tumblr user robbeijzermans posted a text:**  
yes I saved this guy’s name as an url FIGHT ME

**Tumblr user sandermemes posted a photo:**

  
  


**Tumblr user pansexualsander posted a text:**  
THE WAY I FEEL SO ALIVE RIGHT NOW YOU GAYS

**allie @drlesenlove on twitter (5min ago)**  
what… is happening right now...

isaac @earthlingsander . 5min  
replying to @drlesenlove  
sander is about to get laid is what’s happening

**Instagram user w0nderlandsander posted a story.**  
[ _screenshot of Robbe’s reply to Sander, overlaid with the text: @earthlingoddity @sterkerdanijzer + 3 ghost emojis_ ]

  
  


**Instagram user jensrolt liked sterkerdanijzer’s reply to earthlingoddity.**

  
  


**Instagram user helloolly replied to sterkerdanijzer’s reply to earthlingoddity.**  
oh my god robbe u didn’t… I’M SO PROUD RIGHT NOW BABY GAY

**some people are gay karen @bleachblondbitch on twitter (2m ago)**  
bye britt

lara @sanderxbrltt. 1m  
replying to @bleachblondbitch  
stop trying to make everything gay!!! sander and britt are still together you ugly bitch

emma @gryffindorsander . 15s  
replying to @ sanderxbrltt @bleachblondbitch   
yikes!

  
  


**Tumblr user sanderschmander posted a text:**  
and the ship name discourse has started. y’all know robsan is the only right answer sjdhfjkdjfg

  
  


**Youtube user sanderdriesenupdates posted a video.**  
[ _10 minutes of a girl rambling on about Sander and Robbe’s few interactions_ ]

**Noor Bauwens @thenoorbauwens on twitter (1s ago)**  
Welcome to the first chapters of the romance of the decade. ;)


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for any typos, I was trying to post this as soon as possible to make up for the delay.  
> Thank you so much for all the support in the past chapters! Hope you enjoy this one. :)

Sander Driesen doesn’t respond. Robbe tells himself not to worry about it and to keep going about his life like nothing happened, like there wasn’t a shift in the center of the earth that put Robbe’s entire life off its axis the minute Sander Driesen engaged for the first time.

He has a late dinner with Milan grilling him for details Robbe doesn’t actually have. He showers, texts his mom goodnight, asks his other housemate Senne if they’re still going out next Friday as a reprieve from uni exams and gets an enthusiastic affirmation in reply. He cuddles with Zoë, his sister in all aspects but blood, on the sofa for an hour watching tv, thankful that she’s not interested in knowing his thoughts on what it’s like to be twitter famous for a few hours. He texts Yasmina declining the offer of dinner for tonight but promising to go for it another time, ignores Jens supportive messages for having gotten himself into the whole Sander Driesen situation, and ignores his other friends, who are still freaking out about everything, even harder.

Overall, he tries his best to fall back into normal routine and stop thinking about his social media. Stop wondering if Sander Driesen has really moved on from him so soon or if there’s still time for him to keep the charade going for a little while. Robbe still checks his phone every 20 seconds though, because he’s invested despite himself. He sees Zoë give him knowing looks from where she’s lying against his side. Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything about it, and he loves her even more for it.

Through it all, Sander Driesen is still trending on twitter. By the time midnight strikes, his tweet with Robbe’s face in it has reached 200 thousand likes.

Robbe goes to bed with his phone in his hands, staring intently at the cold blue hue of the screen and the Instagram post reflected in it, with Robbe’s reply to Sander Driesen’s comment and hundreds of other replies to it. None of them from the person he’s been expecting.

It makes sense, he knows, that the musician had a bit of fun and got bored of it soon. Robbe had convinced himself this would happen since the whole thing began a few hours ago anyway. This is something he had predicted and was expecting. Or, something that he should’ve been expecting, at least. But he can’t help but feel a little disappointment sink in his stomach when at past 1 am Sander Driesen still hasn’t said anything else. Robbe goes to sleep being sure their interaction ended before he got to have a little fun with it the way Jens said he should.

He should be thankful that it’s over. Really. But he finds that he isn’t.

It’s around 4 am when he wakes up again. He doesn’t know what makes him do it; his phone is on silent and turned upside down so that the glow of incoming notifications doesn’t bother him every 10 seconds, and the house is dark and quiet with all of his housemates fast asleep. But still, he’s suddenly awake, blinking around his room that is lightly lit up by the moon shining through the thin yellow curtains covering his window.

Groggily, he reaches for his phone that has slipped under his pillow during the night, not even realizing he’s doing it. His fingerprint quickly unlocks it and in a few seconds he’s staring at the most recent notification, blinking hard through sleep-crusty eyes.

**Instagram (15s ago)  
** earthlingoddity added to their story.

Robbe clicks on it without much thought. When the story loads, his heart goes into overdrive, beating so fast that he feels it in his throat like a hummingbird struggling to break free.

It’s Robbe, in Sander Driesen’s story. At least, Robbe thinks it’s him. The drawing is sketched on black paper, white charcoal contrasting against the midnight colored pages, a callback to Sander Driesen’s snow white hair against the space-themed backdrop in the musician’s most recent album cover. The inked silhouette feels almost alive, floppy and wavy hair curled as though it’s being blown up by imaginary wind, partially hiding away a dimpled smile and crinkled eyes, slim hands attached to long and skinny fingers up in the air like they’re in the middle of a silly dance, oversized hoodie folded over a small torso twisting around in movement.

It’s a simple sketch with lines that don’t always meet, leaving a black abyss in between, and no shading besides the precise way in which he drew the doe-like eyes and the wrinkles near a bashful smile.

At the bottom there are words in small text, _white color lights up your face_ , and it takes Robbe’s brain a moment to catch up with him and realize that his own Instagram username, sterkerdanijzer, is tagged in the story as well.

It takes Robbe a second moment to notice that Sander Driesen added a song to his story. _Let’s Dance_ by David Bowie starts playing in Robbe’s room at 4:17 am, while he looks at a drawing of himself dancing, lit up in white color, against paper so dark it feels infinite.

Robbe stays like that for a few long minutes, sitting on his bed in his badly lit room, opening the story over and over again, feeling flushed and awed.

He’s been following Sander Driesen on Instagram since the time of his crush. Although Robbe never followed him too closely, he always casually looked at the singer’s posts and stories and the very occasional live streams. And he doesn’t remember Sander Driesen ever posting one of his drawings besides the one of his famous girlfriend, Britt Ingelbrecht. The musician’s street art is all over social media, photographed by fans all around the world, featured in popular art accounts and magazines. But his drawings, the ones that fill dozens of notebooks and canvases and the occasional napkin that he’s mentioned a few times in interviews? Those he doesn’t share with the world, like they’re something so personal that he holds them as close to his chest as possible, not letting anyone even have a peek.

When he shared the one drawing of Britt Ingelbrecht it made sense. They had been dating for about half a year and she had cheekily hinted to a possible engagement at the Grammy’s red carpet last year. Everyone thought he was finally sharing a piece of his heart.

Sharing a sketch of Robbe though, who he hasn’t even met once, makes as much sense as the sun rising at midnight. But it at least tells Robbe that the singer is taking this prank very seriously. Good to know; Robbe is still looking to get back at him and have some fun in the meantime.

Robbe smiles to himself and opens his DMs with the musician, feeling giddy that he still gets to play another round of this ridiculous public charade they have going on.

He didn’t reply to the previous messages, not really knowing what to say in the face of that kind of flirting. Robbe has a surprising amount of game with girls for someone who isn’t interested in them romantic or sexually in the slightest. But boys are a completely different story. Even when the current boy he’s trying to playfully flirt with is a famous musician Robbe knows he has no real chance with whatsoever. Robbe figures he could’ve gotten drunk and let himself be loose enough to finally be a decent flirt and attempt to fluster Sander Driesen as much as he flusters Robbe, but he left those coping mechanisms in high school along with his closet and he’s not really keen on bringing them back. So he just left the messages unanswered hoping to get the conversation going another way.

He bites his lip as he stares at the screen trying to think of what to say now because he can’t just keep not responding. He huffs to himself when he realizes he’s overthinking it too much and just settles for something simple.

**To: earthlingoddity (04:36)**

thanks for the drawing :)

The 3 dots that mean that Sander Driesen is writing his reply appear almost instantly, as though he was waiting for Robbe to say something. Robbe blinks, startled. He kind of wonders if, by any chance, Sander Driesen’s account is being run by a very bored intern instead of the actual singer. That would actually explain a lot, if he’s honest.

**From: earthlingoddity (04:36)**

I’ll give you many more, if you really agree to that date with me.

**To: earthlingoddity (04:37)**

do you do that for every person you meet on instagram?

**From: earthlingoddity (04:37)**

No, never. You’re special.

**To: earthlingoddity (04:37)**

how am i special? you don’t even know me

The three dots appear again and then disappear, and then keep appearing and disappearing for some long minutes as the musician writes and deletes reply after reply. Robbe waits on him, curious.

At 04:42 his phone finally lights up again.

Robbe stares at the message, again not knowing what to even say to something like that. A small part of him wants to tease the musician for being so incredibly cliché with his flirting tactics and ask him how many people he’s managed to ensnare by saying such ridiculous things. But, regrettably and shamefully, a bigger part of him is embarrassingly taken by every single word. He feels like he needs to just not acknowledge the flirting again if he wants to keep playing along without letting his crush for the singer come back to haunt him.

He’s having fun, nothing more. He will not let himself be tempted by Sander Driesen’s pretty words that he probably recycles from person to person. He won’t.

Robbe doesn’t respond for so long that Sander Driesen messages him again.

**From: earthlingoddity (04:45)**

Let me take you on that date.

**To: earthlingoddity (04:46)**

sorry, i don’t go on dates on the first instagram interaction

you still haven’t earned the right to one :)

**From: earthlingoddity (04:46)**

Fuck, you’re precious.

Fine. I accept the challenge.

**To: earthlingoddity (04:47)**

that wasn’t a challenge!

**From: earthlingoddity (04:47)**

I think it was.

Robbe has a hard time falling back asleep after that. He just keeps staring at his phone, waiting to see how Sander Driesen will take on the challenge that Robbe accidentally set, too jittery to drift away when the singer could message him again at any minute.

At past 5 am Robbe’s phone illuminates with a new notification. He readily opens it to find that Sander Driesen has sent him a link to a playlist on Spotify. Robbe clicks on it and David Bowie starts playing quietly in his room again. _Rebel Rebel_ is the first of 17 Bowie songs from a playlist titled “when I live my dream” that, based on the date, Sander Driesen seems to have just created for Robbe.

Robbe lets his head fall back against his pillow and closes his eyes as he absorbs the music, a rhythm that he knows is a big part of Sander Driesen’s life but that Robbe never thought of exploring before.

The song isn’t calm at all, the upbeat guitar chords not made to lull anyone to sleep. But, somehow, Robbe still finds himself drifting off to the sound, too focused on trying to understand the connection the young musician has with Bowie that the excitement of the situation can’t stop his brain from shutting off anymore.

He wakes up again at past 11 am with Milan frantically knocking on his door again, yelling about Sander Driesen and his drawing of Robbe and how they need to discuss this right then and there because Milan is dying from feels (Milan’s exact words).

Robbe’s phone is still in his hand, music no longer coming out of it. A new notification from Sander Driesen is waiting for him though. Robbe almost jumps on his bed rushing to open it. He wonders in the back of his mind if the singer ever sleeps.

Robbe bites his bottom lip to stop a smile from forming and shakes his head to himself. Sander Driesen is just too ridiculous, with his “cutie”s and his emojis and his goddamn flirting game. If Robbe wasn’t on a mission he would he putty in his hands and he knows it.

But, as it is, he is in fact on a mission. So he narrows his eyes as he looks at the message and thoughtfully tries to decide how to respond.

He starts to write his own attempt at a flirty morning text. He stops when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror in the corner of his room. His hair is a mess from having rolled on it during the night and his big sleep shirt is stretched at the neck from too much wear, almost falling off his left shoulder and leaving his collarbone exposed and sharp. There are red marks running across his skin where the pillow dug into it for too long and his angel necklace his mama gave to him many years ago is looping over his shoulder and glinting in the bright morning light coming in through the window.

He hasn’t done anything but sleep and be on his social media the past night, but, frankly, he looks absolutely debauched. And he can’t let the opportunity pass.

So he exits his dms with the singer and clicks on his own profile icon to add a new story. He lies back down on his bed, messy hair fanning across the pillow, soft smile lifting up the corner of his mouth, and lifts his phone up in the air to take a photo.

He doesn’t do anything else except tag earthlingoddity right where his necklace meets his heart. He mouths _check-mate_ to himself, and then he sends the picture out into the world.

*

**Tumblr user earthlingsander posted a text:  
** me watching sander trying to get a boyfriend right in my face:

**Tumblr user sanderbananerfofander posted a text:**  
imagine being a skater boi all the way in belgium doing skater boi things or whatever and suddenly sander driesen proposes to you via drawings on instagram. and I OOP-

**Tumblr user wlwsander posted a text:**  
I feel like I’ve entered a very strange reality. This isn’t actually happening, right? RIGHT?!

**Instagram user sanderdriesenupdates posted a photo:**  
[10 memes of Sander Driesen’s love life, tagged @earthlingoddity and @sterkerdanijzer, captioned: “here are the best memes you missed if you’ve been living under a rock, you’re welcome #sanderdriesen #sandermemes #isthisagaylovestoy?]

**Instagram user sobbeisotp posted to their story.**  
[Screenshot of Robbe’s story, overlaid with “britt wIE???” in big text.]

**parker @parallelworlds on twitter (11min ago)**  
i’m going to sander’s concert in london tomorrow!! gonna try to get some info *eye emoji*

bea @oceaningoddity . 8min  
replying to @parallelworlds  
if he mentions that guy at the concert i will literally die

**Instagram user aarondaarom posted to their story.**  
[Screenshot of Sander Driesen’s story overlaid with the text “WOAH U’R SO TALENTED I’M SUCH A BIG FAN”]

**sander’s concert 8/6/2022 @whitehairdriesen on twitter (4m ago)**  
i don’t know about you guys but this is the best week of my life

**Tumblr user sanderseyebrows posted a text:**  
i’ve been BEGGING sander to post his drawings for YEARS and he finally DID IT and it’s BEAUTIFUL and GAY and PERFECT

**Buzzfeed posted an article: “Sander Driesen Continues His Online Flirting With The Belgian Youtuber And Here’s The Response From His Fandom”**

_Excerpt: Driesen’s fandom is so often starved for content that they’ve been known for making a ruckus out of the smallest things related to the singer. And this week’s events are no exception. From the youngest fans to grandmothers who enjoy rocking out to Driesen’s peculiar music style, everyone is having a field trip watching this online relationship develop right in front of their eyes. Driesen’s name has been trending on social media since last night, with big celebrities like Ellen DeGeneres weighing in on the fun with hilarious tweets and quirky Instagram posts about how gays just do it better. Everyone seems to have grabbed their popcorn and sat in front of their computers and phones, watching everything happen like this story is another big Netflix series that has grabbed the nation._

_In the current unpleasant political climate it seems like the world has chosen to put their attention on two young Belgian boys and their adorable online flirting, and we must admit we are doing the same._

_If this is a stunt to publicize his name right before Driesen’s next big world tour, we must applaud his team for a very successful strategy that has already earned the singer sold out arenas all around Europe. If not, then all we have to say is: good luck, Sander Driesen, the world is rooting for you!_


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support you've all been giving, it's been amazing to read <3 Sorry for the delay with this chapter and for any typos, hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> PS: I've noticed that a lot of people used the same title for their fics that I did for mine and it's getting pretty confusing. so I'll probably change my title soon. Be aware of that if suddenly you can't find this fic. :)
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://evenbechnaesheim.tumblr.com/)!

**From: earthlingoddity (10:19)**

You can't just tag me in things like that.  
Especially when I still have to work on getting that date with you.

**To: earthlingoddity (10:20)**

i don't know what you're talking about :)

**From: earthlingoddity (10:20)**

So you're cute AND cheeky.  
You're full of surprises, aren't you?

**To: earthlingoddity (10:21)**

aren't we all? :)

**From: earthlingoddity (10:21)**

Touché.

**To: earthlingoddity (10:21)**

but that’s not a bad thing, right?

**From: earthlingoddity (10:22)**

Not from you.  
You’re too much of a good thing to ever be bad.

**To: earthlingoddity (10:22)**

i can promise you that’s not true  
i’m not always good. i’ve done really awful things

**From: earthlingoddity (10:23)**

Like what?

**To: earthlingoddity (10:23)**

are you trying to unlock the tragic backstory? ;)

**From: earthlingoddity (10:23)**

Maybe I am.

**To: earthlingoddity (10:24)**

i don’t know, things like...  
i made my best friends break up once just because i was jealous

**From: earthlingoddity (10:24)**

How old were you when you did that?

**To: earthlingoddity (10:25)**

15

**From: earthlingoddity (10:25)**

And how many times did you say sorry?

**To: earthlingoddity (10:26)**

uh well, i guess i still haven’t stopped saying sorry to be honest

**From: earthlingoddity (10:27)**

See? You’re good. No one with a face like yours can be anything other than an angel.

**To: earthlingoddity (10:27)**

don’t say things like that

**From: earthlingoddity (10:28)**

Why not? Are you finally considering that date? :)

**To: earthlingoddity (10:28)**

you wish

**From: earthlingoddity (10:28)**

Yes, I do. I really do.

*

**From: earthlingoddity (11:04)**

Have you listened to the playlist yet?

**To: earthlingoddity (11:06)**

maybe…

**From: earthlingoddity (11:07)**

And you didn’t tell me? I need your feedback, this is important.  
Did you like it?

**To: earthlingoddity (11:08)**

  
  


**From: earthlingoddity (11:08)**

Did you actually just send me a picture of my face…?

**To: earthlingoddity (11:08)**

:)

**From: earthlingoddity (11:09)**

You’re going to be the death of me.

*

**From: earthlingoddity (12:11)**

What do you mean DiCaprio is your favorite actor?

**To: earthlingoddity (12:12)**

he’s a really good actor!

romeo and juliet is fucking beautiful

**From: earthlingoddity (12:13)**

This is the most cliché answer you could’ve given me.

**To: earthlingoddity (12:13)**

well it’s true! :(

**From: earthlingoddity (12:14)**

Do you like DiCaprio more than you like me? ;)

**To: earthlingoddity (12:14)**

i don’t actually know you

**From: earthlingoddity (12:14)**

You don’t know DiCaprio either but you’re very defensive over him.

**To: earthlingoddity (12:15)**

that’s because i’m a fan of him

**From: earthlingoddity (12:15)**

And you’re not a fan of me?

**To: earthlingoddity (12:16)**

I don’t know yet. that’s to be decided. ;)

*

**From: earthlingoddity (13:34)**

And then she threw up all over me.

**To: earthlingoddity (13:34)**

oh no that's awful!

**From: earthlingoddity (13:35)**

That’s famous people for you, not as nice and clean-cut as they seem.

**To: earthlingoddity (13:36)**

are you trying to tell me something about yourself?

**From: earthlingoddity (13:36)**

Are you trying to unlock the tragic backstory?

**To: earthlingoddity (13:37)**

maybe i am ;)  
you can’t get that date if you’re secretly a serial killer

**From: earthlingoddity (13:37)**

Cheeky.

**To: earthlingoddity (13:38)**

so? what kind of person are you then?

**From: earthlingoddity (13:41)**

The kind who can’t wait to see you face to face. I bet you’d look ethereal under the moonlight. :)

*

**From: earthlingoddity (15:00)**

I kind of like that life is like a movie and you can write your own script, make your own choices.

**To: earthlingoddity (15:01)**

i don’t really believe that

**From: earthlingoddity (15:01)**

No?

**To: earthlingoddity (15:01)**

not really.  
do you know the multiverse theory?  
i think life is like that  
every time you make a choice the universe splits so that way we’ve all done everything in at least one universe

**From: earthlingoddity (15:02)**

Hm. That’s interesting.

**To: earthlingoddity (15:03)**

i’m very jealous of the robbe who took a gap year before uni and is travelling through europe with his friends instead of stressing about finals

**From: earthlingoddity (15:04)**

Then I guess I’m very jealous of the Sander who has been on that date with you by now. ;)

**To: earthlingoddity (15:04)**

maybe no sander has yet. maybe this universe is the first one where we met

**From: earthlingoddity (15:05)**

I don’t like the thought of that.

**To: earthlingoddity (15:05)**

why not?

**From: earthlingoddity (15:05)**

Because I don’t like to think of any universe where I never meet you.

**To: earthlingoddity (15:06)**

you don’t need to keep saying things like that just to butter me up, you know? haha

**From: earthlingoddity (15:06)**

Robbe IJzermans.  
I never say anything I don’t actually mean.

*

**To: earthlingoddity (16:44)**

i just realized you said my full name…

**From: earthlingoddity (16:44)**

Your broers said it in the vlogs. I'm not stalking you, don't worry your pretty head ;)

**To: earthlingoddity (16:45)**

so you actually watched the vlogs?

**From: earthlingoddity (16:45)**

What do you mean? Of course I watched the vlogs. You're in them.

*

**From: earthlingoddity (17:59)**

So, have you considered that date yet?

**To: earthlingoddity (18:00)**

it’s been a day

**From: earthlingoddity (18:00)**

Yes. An eternity without meeting you.

**To: earthlingoddity (18:00)**

do you have those one-liners written in a notebook somewhere?

**From: earthlingoddity (18:01)**

I come up with all of them on the spot just for you, cutie. ;)

**To: earthlingoddity (18:01)**

just for me? i don’t believe that haha

**From: earthlingoddity (18:02)**

Of course just for you.  
You’re the only thing on my mind.  
No one else matters.

*

“So... how's your loverboy doing?”

Jens’ voice breaks Robbe out of the trance he’d been in, eyes glued to his phone and unable to look away. Robbe gives his best friend a look from where he’s sitting at his desk, textbooks spread around him begging to be read and laptop open with his molecular biology notes that Robbe hasn’t managed to glance at once. Jens, for his part, is lying down on Robbe’s bed, having already given up the pretense of studying, with his own laptop open on top of his chest as he scrolls through the notifications in the Broerrrs Youtube channel. They passed the 50 thousand followers mark hours ago and all the boys are pleased as punch about it.

“He's not my loverboy,” Robbe says, seriously. Two seconds later he’s looking down at his phone again, giggling to himself at the Bowie meme Sander Driesen just sent him. It doesn’t make a lot of sense to Robbe, if he’s honest, but he finds himself laughing anyway.

“Uh huh.”

Jens sounds skeptical and Robbe decides to ignore him. He knows when he’s being teased and he doesn’t particularly fancy losing time with that just about now. He goes back to sending an eyeroll emoji to Sander Driesen instead.

The room is silent for a few more minutes, nothing but the sound of Jens typing on his laptop and Robbe’s occasional snort that he can’t keep to himself.

But, after a while, Jens speaks up again.

“So how is he?” Jens asks.

“How’s who?” Robbe replies absentmindedly. Sander Driesen has just sent him a link to a Tumblr post about Bowie also being a mime and Robbe is reading through it carefully, kind of fascinated by the whole thing.

“Sander Driesen,” Jens says. He sounds a little exasperated. “Who else would I be talking about?”

“I don’t know, Jens, there are a lot of people in the world,” Robbe says, still distracted.

**To: earthlingoddity (19:13)**

the question is: can YOU mime? i don’t think i’ll be interested in that date if you can’t tbh...

“So?” Jens asks again, insistent. “Robbe!”

“What?”

Robbe looks at his best friend again, eyebrows raised. Jens raises his own eyebrows back at him and moves his head in that ‘ _get on with it_ ’ way of his.

“What’s Sander Driesen like?”

Robbe blinks at Jens, shrugs his shoulders a little and says, “He’s okay.”

“Okay? You’ve been talking to him all day and all you have to say is that he’s ‘okay’?”

Robbe shrugs again.

“He’s just playing around. How am I supposed to know what he’s really like?”

Jens narrows his eyes at him and Robbe narrows his eyes right back. And just like that they get stuck in a staring contest for a moment, trying to see who breaks first. Robbe inevitably loses, quickly and swiftly, because his phone goes off with a new notification and Robbe has the Pavlovian response of immediately turning to it.

He easily goes back to forgetting Jens is in the room when he sees that Sander Driesen has sent him a video. The preview doesn’t show much, but Robbe scrambles to put his headphones on, connect the cable to his phone and click play, his heart beating fast from the quick surge of adrenaline.

It takes a couple seconds for the camera to focus on the singer but once it does it’s impossible to mistake him for anyone else, and Robbe’s side theory that someone else was running Sander Driesen’s social media and messing with Robbe themselves is undeniably discredited now.

The white hoodie Sander Driesen has on is one that Robbe is sure he’s seen in pictures before, and a soft looking cloud of white hair is peeking from the top, falling on the singer’s forehead like unruly cotton candy. His eyebrows are as full and dark in video as they are in the photos, such a breathtaking contrast against his snow white hair and a lovely complement to his tanned skin. His sharp jawline and full lips are softened by the small uptick of his mouth that is halfway between a smirk and a smile, not quite one or the other, and his cheekbones really are high and round in a way that has always made Robbe sweat.

The bright light entering the room, whichever room it is that Robbe can’t see and honestly can’t care about in this particular moment, is hitting Sander Driesen’s eyes like warm summer sun reflecting on a lake, shimmery and lively, a color alike the green of the forest casting shadows over the water and painting it aquamarine. The singer’s eyes are very green, and a little bit blue, and a little bit brown or yellow, like they can’t decide exactly what they want to be at any given time. Only, his eyes feel more like an ocean than a lake: intense, mischievous, a place where Robbe figures many people could easily drown in and likely be thankful for it.

Robbe watches with a fast-beating heart and entranced eyes as the singer seemingly adjusts the camera and then steps away from it. His smile shifts more into a smirk now and he winks in Robbe’s direction before lifting his hands in the air and going straight into a mime impression, his mouth giving sound to every little movement.

Robbe lifts his hand to his mouth, trying to contain his giggles but not really succeeding. The video is over soon, but he clicks on it again, replaying it 3 times and grinning all the way through.

It's silly and cute, and Robbe is absolutely endeared. Sander Driesen really is unbelievably ridiculous.

“Oh my god,” he vaguely hears Jens say from the other side of the room. He sounds incredulous, or maybe annoyed, or just confused. Robbe doesn’t know. To be honest, he’s not paying his best friend that much attention.

**From: earthlingoddity (19:19)**

So what’s the verdict?

**To: earthlingoddity (19:20)**

you’re adequate

**From: earthlingoddity (19:20)**

Adequate?! That’s unacceptable. I’m sure I’m the best you’ve ever seen.

**To: earthlingoddity (19:21)**

if you are then i might need glasses :/

**From: earthlingoddity (19:22)**

  
  


**To: earthlingoddity (19:22)**

did you just send me a meme of myself???

**From: earthlingoddity (19:23)**

I learned from the best. ;)

“Oh my god,” Jens repeats when Robbe giggles again, louder this time.

Robbe can’t help but agree.

_Same, Jens. Same._

*

He talks with Sander Driesen the entire day. Robbe keeps waiting for the conversation to stop, for the musician to get tired of playing around with him and finally go back to his life and the people he actually cares about. But it never happens.

They talk and they talk, and then they talk some more even after Robbe sends Jens away with the excuse of being tired. Whenever there’s a lull in the conversation and Robbe starts thinking ‘this is it, this is the moment he gives up the game’, Sander Driesen always manages to have something else to say, to extend their interaction for one more minute, one more hour, until it’s past midnight and Robbe realizes he hasn’t managed to study all day because he was too lost in all that is Sander Driesen to even care.

Robbe should feel bad about it. He’s a good student, always has been, and he didn’t choose to go to university and get this degree to now slack off right when the finals are here and he needs to succeed. He should not have been prioritizing a celebrity over studying. This isn’t like him at all.

But, as it is, he feels so content and relaxed from a day filled with jokes and giggles and the pure adrenaline of messing with Sander Driesen that he can’t regret having missed a whole day of studying. His exam isn’t tomorrow anyway. He’ll be okay. He can keep talking to the singer a little bit longer. What harm could it do?

Still, he tells Sander Driesen off on distracting him so swiftly.

  
  


**From: earthlingoddity (00:12)**

Aw, am I a bad influence in your life?

**To: earthlingoddity (00:12)**

‘influence’ is too strong of a word  
i’m not feeling influenced at all

**From: earthlingoddity (00:13)**

Maybe I need to try harder then. ;)

**To: earthlingoddity (00:13)**

maybe you do :)

And he does. They keep talking throughout the night, ignoring the fact that both have responsibilities in the morning. Robbe learns things about Sander Driesen that are inconsequential but somehow still feel quite precious, like his obsession with coffee and the musician’s family history with croques and his penchant for jumping into freezing swimming pools naked. And Robbe can’t help but share things about himself right back, all the while trying to remember that this is just a game to both of them and there’s nothing intimate about telling someone that you eat toast with chocolate cookies in the morning and that you’re really not a fan of Neils Destadsbader.

He’s finding it harder and harder with each message, but Robbe is pretty good at lying to himself, so he keeps repeating in his head that this is nothing, it means nothing. Even when it’s past 3 am and they are still talking. It’s nothing.

He will not be charmed by Sander Driesen. Everything is fine.

  
  


**From: earthlingoddity (03:05)**

Why did you choose a degree in neuroscience?

**To: earthlingoddity (03:06)**

that’s part of the tragic backstory actually

**From: earthlingoddity (03:06)**

Okay. Promise to tell me some day?  
If I earn that date?

**To: earthlingoddity (03:07)**

i’ll think about it

**To: earthlingoddity (03:46)**

i guess it’s ok if i tell you  
about why i chose neuroscience

**From: earthlingoddity (03:47)**

You don’t have to, cutie.

**To: earthlingoddity (03:47)**

:)

**To: earthlingoddity (03:51)**

ok so...  
i’ve always been good at science, especially biology, and everything about it is fascinating so i always had that option in the back of my mind.  
but hm  
i only really started thinking about neuroscience in particular after my mama got diagnosed as mentally ill.  
it took me a few years to get into the right headspace for it but now it felt right

**From: earthlingoddity (03:55)**

So you chose neuroscience because you want to cure her? Or people like her?

**To: earthlingoddity (03:56)**

at first yes  
i just kept thinking… how is mental illness only managed? why can’t it be erased? is anyone even doing extensive research on it? i kept thinking that if no one was doing it then i should.

**From: earthlingoddity (03:58)**

Hm.

**To: earthlingoddity (03:59)**

then i grew up and realized that my mama doesn’t have a disease that i should try to get rid of like it’s contagious.  
but i also saw what some medication did to her, how long it took to find one that made her feel like herself again.  
so that’s what i want to work on i think.  
doing research to reduce the side effects neurological and psychological treatments have on people.  
help mental illness and epilepsy and other brain disorders be just one part of someone’s life instead of defining it.  
i don’t know... is that silly?

**From: earthlingoddity (04:04)**

No. No. Not at all.  
You just proved that I was right from the start.  
You really are an angel.

*

He falls asleep from exhaustion at past 6 am and wakes up again after 1 pm realizing that it’s Monday already and he completely missed his morning study sessions. He lays on his bed staring at the ceiling for some long minutes, a sudden burst of anxiety overtaking him.

On one hand, he knows not going to University today was probably for the best - people will definitely still be freaking out about Robbe getting a mention from Sander Driesen on Twitter and he wasn’t particularly looking forward to interacting with everyone so soon anyway.

On the other hand, having lost a day and a half of studying no longer feels fine the way it did yesterday. He feels guilty for slacking off and scared that he’s going to fail the two exams he still has left. And, on top of that, he’s suddenly remembering with vivid clarity that he really took his conversation with Sander Driesen to a much more personal level last night, unable to stop himself while his brain was muddled by the otherworldly feeling of the early hours.

Robbe curses his own stupidity. Whatever happened to the resolution of keeping this interaction casual and playful? Who gave 3 am Robbe the right to go and screw it up with a serious conversation Sander Driesen probably didn’t give a damn about but pretended to for the sake of the game?

Robbe feels embarrassment and shame course through him and he puts his hands on his face, digging the heels into his eyes and groaning to himself. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_.

His phone suddenly vibrates on the pillow beside him, where he’d dropped it when he fell asleep during the night. Robbe turns to it slowly, swallowing heavily and unsure he should check it at all.

He holds off for a moment, but once again it doesn’t take him long to break and unlock his phone. Instagram, Twitter and messenger notifications from his friends have accumulated unread in the past 24 hours, including a few desperate calls from Moyo and Aaron whom Robbe has been studiously ignoring since he started trending Saturday night. But, once again, he only opens one notification in particular.

**From: earthlingoddity (7:04)**

I see you fell asleep.  
Or you’ve been ignoring me. But I’m sure you like me enough to not to that. ;)

**From: earthlingoddity (09:33)**

I’m starting to feel a little guilty that I kept you from studying.  
Please forgive me?

**From: earthlingoddity (11:12)**

My manager is taking my phone away. Apparently I need to prepare for my concert or something.  
And you need to be a good boy and study.  
Just don’t forget about me while I’m gone, cutie. :)

Robbe can feel himself start to grin as he reads and re-reads the messages, heart beating fast in his chest, despite the embarrassment that is still flowing through him. And then he feels an alarming amount of disappointment at the prospect of not hearing from Sander for the rest of the day and he suddenly doesn’t know what to do with that information.

Robbe realizes that it’s only been one day and a half since his first interaction with the singer and it’s really a terrible sign that he feels so dependent on his messages already.

It takes him a moment to also notice that this is the first time he’s thought of the singer as just _Sander_ instead of his whole brand name the way he knows he should and, frankly, Robbe starts panicking a little.

Seriously, what happened to having fun? What happened to keeping emotional distance and just messing around? Robbe is letting this move too fast and derail out of his control and he’s starting to not like it one bit. He’s in trouble and he does not want to be in trouble. Not again, not with Sander _Driesen_ , a celebrity who does not actually want him and that Robbe does not want back (should not want back).

 _Oh, God._ This needs to stop.

It’s then that he realizes what a blessing it actually is that Sander Driesen can’t message him for the rest of the day. Robbe looks at his phone with wide, panicked eyes and hastily turns it off the way he did that first night. He puts it underneath his mattress with a necessary burst of resolution and turns to his textbooks, finally ready to do something worthwhile with his day again.

Fuck Sander Driesen.

*

He actually manages to get some studying done after that, but it does suck a little to know that it’s not his strong will that made him do it, to know that the only reason he can actually put his phone down is because he knows that no new notification from Sander Driesen is going to be waiting for him this time.

At past 10 pm he finally comes out of his room for a late dinner and runs into Milan who’s grinning from ear to ear with his phone in his hands, and whose attention hons in on Robbe like a moth to a flame.

“Robbe!” he exclaims. There’s a mischievous hint to his voice and Robbe’s instincts are telling him to retreat. He barely manages to stay put.

“Yes?” Robbe says back, unsure. He’s already looking around checking for exit points.

“You haven’t seen it yet, have you?”

That sounds so ominous that Robbe gets a little bit scared. Or rather, a lot scared. Because in the current social climate of Robbe’s life this can only mean one thing.

_What did Sander Driesen do now?_

Milan grins so wide that it’s a miracle his jaw doesn’t break. He looks down at his phone and starts tapping the screen at a fast pace. And then he’s shoving it in Robbe’s hands and Robbe finds himself helplessly looking down at a new Instagram post from what looks like a Sander Driesen fan account.

Robbe gapes at the post: it’s him again. More specifically, it’s the drawing of Robbe that Sander Driesen uploaded to his story, printed in cardboard and being held by a screaming fan at what it undeniably a concert.

“Swipe to the other photos, Robbe,” Milan tells him enthusiastically and Robbe does it on autopilot.

And really, he should’ve been expecting it after seeing the first picture and Milan’s elated face, but it still feels like a shock to the system when he swipes the first photo away and is confronted by the sight of the cardboard sign being held by Sander Driesen himself this time, as he stands on stage with a microphone in his left hand, sweat dripping from his magnetic hair and a winning grin on his gorgeous face.

Robbe’s heart is beating so fast it’s a miracle he hasn’t passed out. He shakes his head to himself incredulously, stares at the photo of Sander Driesen for what feels like ages, and then swipes to the third and last photo and realizes from the way nerve pain shoots down his arms that he really, truly is in trouble.

The third photo is of the stage directly behind Sander Driesen and the cardboard sign of Robbe that he’s holding up for a crowd of many thousands of fans. And the words shining in white neon light seem to be directed exclusively at Robbe, even as he stands in his home looking at them through a phone screen.

Really. Fuck Sander Driesen.

*

**Tumblr user femmedriesen posted a text.  
** robbe: *exists*  
sander:  


 **Tumblr user scamander-sander posted a text:  
** sander when he sees a cute belgian boy on youtube  


 **Tumblr user robbeandsander posted a text:  
** all of us now: sander and robbe are definitely getting married  
all of us in two weeks when they inevitably start dating:  


**Instagram user paintersander99 posted a photo:  
** [picture of 3 fans holding the cardboard sign with the drawing of Robbe, tagged @earthlingoddity and @sterkerdanijzer, captioned: “BEST CONCERT OF OUR LIVES. Thank you for being amazing @earthlingoddity WE LOVE YOU”]

**Instagram user baasantwerp added to their story:  
** [Short video of Moyo thanking everyone who followed the Broerrrs Youtube channel and promising a new vlog soon]

**Instagram user jensrolt added to their story:**  
[Screenshot of Moyo’s story and a peace sign emoji]

**Instagram user aarondaarom added to their story:**  
[Screenshot of Moyo’s story and a :D]

**erin @lostonsander on twitter (32 min ago)  
** i’m the one who took the sign to the concert. here are some truths: yes sander stopped singing mid song when he saw me in the crowd holding the sign. yes he jumped down and asked me if i could give it to him for a moment. yes he stared at it for 17 seconds (i was counting skdfjdklkfj) before taking it to stage. (1)

erin @lostonsander . 31min  
replying to @lostonsander  
yes i saw him whisper something to his band and then the lights went out. yes we all screamed when the spotlight was on him again and he was holding my sign. yes he was grinning the whole time. yes those words were on stage behind him. (2)

erin @lostonsander . 31min  
replying to @lostonsander  
yes he gave me back the sign with a wink. yes he signed it. and yes... beside his name he wrote: “hold on to this, it’s going to be worth millions one day”. 


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait and for any typos (still my own editor). Thank you for all your support ^^  
> Enjoy! And please stay safe out there ❤

Yasmina’s house is probably Robbe’s favorite place to study. Her mother is always happy to see him, which never fails to make Robbe feel relaxed and welcomed. She brings them snacks and drinks at regular intervals, keeping them both fed and energized while also knowing not to disturb them with chitchat. The house is big and airy, with a private garden Robbe and Yasmina often take advantage of when they feel too trapped and restless to keep studying inside. On top of that, Yasmina’s brother is touring the world so he isn’t around anymore to make too much noise with his friends and be distracting. Also, as much as Robbe loves Milan, it’s nice to have a place away from the familiar chaos of the flatshare where Robbe doesn’t have to worry about his housemate barging in and accidentally interrupting his studies at random times.

And, of course, at Yasmina’s house Robbe has the best studying partner he could’ve ever asked for in Yasmina herself, the top student in all of their classes, even above Robbe who always has really good grades, with the bonus of being one of his best friends.

Robbe loves coming around to their house, he really does, and that’s why he jumped at the chance when Yasmina invited him over this morning.

It’s Wednesday, and they’ve been sitting at the kitchen table with mountains of books spread around them for about three hours now. Robbe has finally managed to go through all the questions he had written down and debated the answers with Yasmina. He’s relieved to feel that he’s actually prepared for his next exam despite the many hours of studying that he lost to Sander Driesen.

Yasmina is sitting beside him munching on a carrot, her eyebrows scrunched together in concentration. Robbe is about to ask her if she wants to move to the garden to get some air when his phone vibrates on the table between them.

Robbe sees Yasmina look down at the screen on instinct, and he suppresses a groan when he sees her eyebrows lift up and a smirk touch her red stained lips. He looks down at his phone too and sees what he already suspected: Sander has sent him a message.

Here’s the thing: Robbe tried to stop communicating with Sander after the concert shenanigans. Really, he did, positive at the time that he just couldn’t let this thing go on anymore when he realized how invested he became in such a short period of time. Especially considering how relentless the musician was being with their interactions. Robbe went a full 5 hours without saying anything back despite how many messages the musician sent him. He opened all of them because he couldn’t help himself, but he never responded, no matter how much he wanted to. He almost actually made it.

But when he didn’t get a response for too long, Sander sent Robbe a photo of himself in what was probably a hotel room, his head lying down on a big white pillow, hair a wild mess, and _shirtless_ of all things, - Robbe doesn’t want to talk about how the sight of it made him feel physically thirsty - pouting in a way that shouldn’t have been as adorable as it was. And Robbe caved faster than a sandcastle under heavy rain, going back to chatting with Sander like the concert didn’t happen. Like Robbe hadn’t fought hard to put emotional distance between them earlier that same day.

Robbe is still telling himself that he’s only doing it for the game, over and over again. He really isn’t ready to admit that he’s not sure he’s actually playing anymore. Not when he feels so dependent already and his heart starts beating a mile a minute just at the sound of an incoming text. And yes, he sees the telltale sign of having started to refer to the singer as just _Sander_ in his head again, despite being so adamant about not letting himself go there when he accidentally did it the first time.

He’s a smart boy, he sees the metaphorical train coming a mile away. But it’s like someone glued his feet to the tracks and he can’t get himself out of the way fast enough to not be run over. So he’s just letting it happen, and hoping against hope that he won’t be mauled in the process.

He ignores Yasmina as she pointedly clears her throat, and looks down at his notebook instead of checking his phone, pencil scratching words on paper that he’s not really reading.

He’s itching to open the message and see what Sander said. When Robbe told him he was going to study with a friend before he came over to Yasmina’s, his response was to immediately encourage it and cut communication for the time being, like it is as important to Sander that Robbe gets good grades as it is to Robbe. So it’s been 3 hours of studying and 3 hours of not talking to him, and Robbe is starting to feel it.

He misses it. After just 3 hours and 13 minutes - he misses Sander Driesen.

Goddammit.

“You’ve been having some interesting days, I see,” Yasmina says cheekily and Robbe looks up to glare at her.

“I thought you said we wouldn’t talk about this,” he accuses.

Yasmina laughs.

“That was on Saturday because I know your broers and they’re idiots. But it’s been days, Robbe. It’s your own fault.”

Robbe opens his mouth to protest but only manages to let out an aborted meep before he shuts up completely. It _is_ his own fault. Also Jens’, and at least 87% Sander’s. But Yasmina has a point - Robbe is guilty of piquing people’s interest too. He replied to Sander’s comment, he posted that story which now only makes him feel embarrassed and flushed instead of victorious, and then he went and replied to that fan’s post from the concert with a heart emoji when Sander eventually complained about Robbe’s lack of response. He’s been asking for it, really.

Yasmina leans forward and takes Robbe’s pencil away from him when he goes back to his notebook, his weak attempt at cutting this conversation short.

“Hey!” he protests.

“Stop yelling and give me the details.”

“No.”

“I will stab you with this pencil.”

“Jesus, Yasmina, that’s not a weapon!”

She brandishes the pencil threateningly, but Robbe sees the smile trying to break through her fake serious expression and giving her away.

She stares him down tho, waiting for answers.

He bites his lip and thinks about it. Realistically, Yasmina is going to get the information out of him sooner or later. Not actually by force but just by being the only person in his life who Robbe can trust to listen and give advice without bullshit. He loves and trusts his other friends, of course he does, but Jens is usually too relaxed to see things in a less optimistic and more realistic way, and his flatmates are always too worried about hurting Robbe to tell him some hard truths the way Yasmina does. She’s not cold or unfeeling at all, in fact she’s one of the softest people he knows, but she knows how to be brutally honest. Robbe could use some of that right now.

If he gives her the details of what’s been going on in the past days, Yasmina, always the realist, will most likely reiterate the fact that Sander is a celebrity joking around and knowingly giving himself some clout now that his name is constantly all over social media. She’ll nip whatever weird emotions Robbe is starting to go through in relation to the musician right in the bud. She’ll say something like ‘of course he doesn’t actually care, Robbe’ and Robbe will agree and everything will be fine. He can trust that.

So he looks sideways at her and attempts to shrug casually.

“We’ve just been talking a little,” he opens up with.

“A little?” she asks, skeptical. “‘A little’ meaning a little or ‘a little’ meaning _a lot_?”

Robbe sucks his lips in, trying to think of how to answer, and Yasmina tilts her head to the side, smirking at him when he takes too long to say anything.

“Robbe…”

“He messages me a lot, ok?” he exclaims. “I just reply.”

“Uh huh. And you’re clearly just replying to be polite, right?”

Yasmina is full on teasing him now, a glint of joy in her eyes as she looks at him dead on. Robbe feels warmth travel up to his cheeks.

“It’s just a bit of fun, really,” he says.

Yasmina’s smirk softens.

“Is it?”

“Yes, obviously,” he retorts, feeling the need to look down at his notebook again. He grabs the pencil back from Yasmina’s hand and starts doodling on the margins. “He’s just playing around.”

He’s waiting for her to laugh and agree with him but she stays silent for so long that he finds himself going back to looking at her. She’s biting her lip, expression completely different from what he was expecting. It doesn’t make sense.

“What?” he asks, slowly. Something inside of him is starting to regret this conversation. “Don’t you agree?”

She shrugs.

“I don’t know, Robbe. Has he said that to you? That it’s just a bit of fun for him?”

“No,” he says. “But it’s obvious, right?”

_Please, say yes. Please._

Yasmina shrugs again, her hands lying on the table on top of each other and fingers tapping a slow rhythm on the surface.

“I think maybe you shouldn’t assume what he wants or doesn’t want from you.” Her eyebrows go up and down in a quick motion and she’s still smiling kindly at him in a way that’s weirding Robbe out.

“He’s a celebrity,” he says slowly. “You of all people should be making sure I don’t get any sort of dumb ideas from this.”

“ _Are_ you getting dumb ideas from it?” she asks. There’s a look in her eyes that he can’t read but it feels a lot like she knows something he doesn’t.

“No.” His heart is beating fast. “That’s not the point.”

“And the point is…?”

“The point is that we’ve been best buds-”

“We’re not best buds.”

“- for years and any other time you would’ve taken this opportunity to knock me down a peg and remind me that this doesn’t mean anything, just like you did for Amber and Senne.” He hopes he doesn’t sound as desperate for a wake-up call as he feels.

“Senne wasn’t into Amber,” Yasmina replies, her tone insinuating the ‘duh’ she doesn’t say.

“And Sander Driesen isn’t into me,” Robbe says slowly, almost spelling it out. What’s wrong with her today?

She just keeps smiling softly at him. “Isn’t he?”

Robbe gapes.

“Are you messing with me right now?”

She purses her lips and looks up at the ceiling like she’s asking for strength and then looks him in the eyes again.

“No. I’m saying maybe you shouldn’t assume the worst of people. He’s not a bad guy.”

Robbe narrows his eyes at her.

“Ok, first of all,” he starts. “What happened to the Yasmina who’s at least a little bit suspicious of everyone? Second of all, how would you even know he’s not a bad guy? Do you know him or something and you just forgot to mention it?”

Yasmina rolls her eyes and goes back to smirking.

“I’m just saying. He doesn’t seem like the type of person to waste time with a joke like this. He’s already rich and famous, for one. And I’ve seen his Insta, Robbe. He’s totally ruining his mysterious vibe by being sickeningly obvious about this thing with you.”

“There’s no thing with me,” he proclaims, almost on reflex. He’s been saying that a lot in the past days.

“Yet,” she replies, grinning widely.

Robbe groans, letting his body slide down the chair he’s sitting on.

“Et tu, Yasmina?” he complains. “How did you turn out to be worse than Jens about this?”

“How are you almost as smart as me and still so oblivious?” she counteracts.

“I’m not oblivious, I’m a realist, and I thought I could count on you to back me up!”

She sends him a judging look.

“Okay, say I backed you up on this unfounded theory that he’s just messing around. Would you stop talking to him? Be honest.”

Hook, line and sinker. Robbe should’ve known better. Because the truth is that he wouldn’t. He’s enjoying it too much, no matter the veracity of what’s going on.

“I don’t need to stop because we’re both playing around. I just needed you to be more down-to-earth about it than everyone else has been.”

Yasmina shakes her head and sighs. “At this point you’re just hopeless.”

Robbe wants to keep protesting, feels this overwhelming need to try to make Yasmina see the light, knowing that he needs her to help him stay grounded when he feels like he might start slipping. Because, again, he can’t stop whatever this is with Sander, but he also needs to be very careful - you only need one misstep to get seriously hurt, after all. And Yasmina was supposed to play gravity in this game, not be fucking helium.

“Okay, well… let’s just not talk about this anymore,” he settles on. It’s for the best. He doesn’t need someone else fueling the fire.

“Oh, we’ll keep talking about it,” she retorts, laughing in his face. “But I’ll let you believe you won the argument for now.”

Robbe rolls his eyes, but he lets her have the last word. He’s so ready to see this conversation over.

Robbe’s phone vibrates again with a new message from Sander, followed by a second one, and then a third. Yasmina’s face is smug when Robbe looks up at her tentatively, and he’s praying in his head that this doesn’t start the discussion all over again.

“Are you still going out this weekend?” she asks, a non-sequitur.

“Uh, yes, with Senne on Friday. Why are you asking?”

“No reason.” She’s still smirking, though, and Robbe narrows his eyes at her. “Going anywhere interesting?”

"Max's club, I think."

"Cool."

"Okay,” he says slowly. She’s up to something, he just can’t figure out _what_. “Why exactly are you suddenly interested?"

"I'm not,” she replies casually. “This will be good for you, tho."

“Okay…” he says again, dragging the word out, utterly confused.

She gives him a gummy smile and a thumbs-up and Robbe just stares at her completely clueless.

“Have fun. I’m sure it’ll be a great night,” she proclaims.

Robbe doesn’t have the courage to ask her what she means by that.

They go back to studying, but Robbe can’t stop thinking about this entire conversation and the weird turn it took. Maybe the stress is getting to him and he’s seeing strange things where there’s nothing, maybe Yasmina was acting weirdly optimistic for no reason. But when he leaves her house at the end of the night after having dinner with her family, he spends the entire journey home thinking, _what the hell was that?_

*

Sander has another concert that night. He messages Robbe before it starts with a picture of himself backstage, the kind of artsy black and white shot that matches his Instagram aesthetic, his body photographed from behind just a black silhouette against the bright lights coming from the stage and his hair a fiery halo at the center. The picture is followed by a message.

**From: earthlingoddity (21:34)  
** I promise to be good tonight if you give me a good luck kiss.

 **To: earthlingoddity (21:36)  
** how am i supposed to give you a good luck kiss all the way from here?

 **From: earthlingoddity (21:36)  
** Blow me.

 **To: earthlingoddity (21:36)  
** what??

 **From: earthlingoddity (21:37)  
** Blow me A KISS, get your mind out of the gutter. ;)

Robbe feels himself blush bright red and is thankful that he's alone in his room and no one else is around to judge him.

**To: earthlingoddity (21:38)  
** no.

 **From: earthlingoddity (21:38)  
** Come on, Robbe.  
Please?  
If I fall off the stage because I didn’t get a proper good luck kiss it’s on you.

 **To: earthlingoddity (21:40)  
** i’m sure there are a lot of other people who’d kill to give you that kiss  
like your girlfriend?

Robbe feels his fingers still on his phone and his eyes widen. He didn't mean to say that but his thumb tapped send before he could stop himself. He’s been avoiding the girlfriend topic and how Sander has most likely been flirting with him while on a relationship ever since this whole thing started. He told himself that since it was all a joke from Sander anyway it wouldn’t matter whether he had a girlfriend or not, and so there was no need for Robbe to bring it up. Nothing was going to come out of this, and maybe Britt Ingelbrecht was in on the joke too, what did Robbe really know? It was something he couldn’t help wondering about but had no intention of asking. But now his stupid thumbs went and wrote down the question and he can’t take it back.

He waits for Sander's response with bated breath, cheeks feeling impossibly hot.

**From: earthlingoddity (21:42)  
** Okay...  
What girlfriend are we talking about exactly?

 **To: earthlingoddity (21:42)  
** yours?

 **From: earthlingoddity (21:43)  
** I don’t have a girlfriend.

Robbe blinks at the message. His heart is tachycardic, beating so strongly he feels the rhythm in his throat.

**From: earthlingoddity (21:44)  
** Were you thinking I had a girlfriend this whole time?

 **To: earthlingoddity (21:44)  
** no…

 **From: earthlingoddity (21:45)  
** Wow. I don’t know what to say to that.  
I thought I was being painfully obvious.

Sander doesn’t say anything else after that and Robbe doesn’t know how to reply, so he just stays there looking at his phone for the next five minutes, periodically tapping the screen to stop it from locking and silently freaking out.

He can’t shake the feeling that he just did something very wrong. But that’s absolutely ridiculous, right? Why would Sander care that Robbe thought he still had a girlfriend? Sure, maybe Robbe was an idiot to believe it - thinking about it now, of course Sander’s PR team wouldn’t let him flirt with another person in front of the whole world if he was in a public relationship with the pop singer. But still, it’s not something that actually matters. It certainly is no reason to start acting like Robbe hurt his feelings when they both know there are no real feelings to be hurt here.

Robbe wants to call him out on it so badly. He has yet to make it obvious to Sander that Robbe is in on the game as well. He wanted to leave that revelation for when Sander eventually got bored of him and he would need ammunition to help him come out of it victorious enough to not look stupid. But god, he wants to break the facade right about now. It’s not fair of Sander to play with Robbe _and_ make him feel bad over a joke.

But a larger part of him - and trust him, he’s ashamed of it - just wants to fix this. It hasn’t even been a week; he’s not ready to let Sander go just yet. He will, eventually, and he will call Sander an asshole for trying (and failing!) to prank him, but not right now. Not so soon.

So he runs to the mirror in the corner of his room and does his best to fix his hair. On inspection, he notices that his t-shirt has a suspicious-looking stain on it so he quickly takes it off and throws it to the floor. He turns to his closet and rummages through it until he sees a jumper that Noor bought for him and that she promised he looked really good in. He bites his lips as he considers it and hastily puts it on a few seconds later, combing through his hair again even though it’s pretty much a hopeless cause.

He goes back to the bed where he left his phone and unlocks it, clicking the camera button on the messages with Sander and turning it on himself.

If Sander wants that good luck kiss, he’s going to fucking get that good luck kiss.

Robbe moves the camera to get his best angle, which he knows would make Noor very proud, and presses the button to start filming. He gives the camera the sweetest, most apologetic smile he can muster and lifts his hand to his lips, blowing Sander a quick kiss and smiling softly again before ending the video. He replays it to make sure it doesn’t look too awkward and then clicks send, following it with a heart emoji in hopes that it will help butter Sander up and make him want to speak to Robbe again.

He waits impatiently for Sander to respond, hoping that the musician won’t make him wait until the end of the concert to say something back.

Thankfully, two minutes later, his phone finally goes off.

Robbe hates that it feels like everything is right in the world again.

*

As promised, Sander doesn’t do anything eccentric this time.

The night goes as normal as can be: Robbe studies some more, his broers keep blowing up the group chat that he has been ignoring since Saturday, Milan comes and goes demanding gossip, and Zoë cooks Robbe some dinner because she’s an angel. And, somewhere else in the world, Sander gives his concert like usual, his fans going a little crazy waiting for something to happen in relation to Robbe and filling Sander’s mentions with increasingly more desperate posts as the night goes by. (Robbe might browse social media for a little bit while Sander is busy, don’t judge him.)

When he’s done, Sander sends another selfie. He’s sweaty and exhausted from the exertion of running around stage and singing, his usually swoopy hair lying flat on his forehead and only curling slightly at the ends. His eyes are half lidded and mouth is open as he pants, and he’s shirtless again, only a small white towel wrapped around his strong shoulders. Robbe has to open his window after seeing it, probably the Summer air making him feel too hot.

The rest of the night is spent giggling over animal memes after Sander says out of nowhere that he used to have a pet snake and the conversation derails from there, with Robbe being a little scandalized but also very interested. As they talk, he wonders in the back of his mind if Sander shouldn’t be attending to other responsibilities after having just given a concert, if he doesn’t have fans to greet and autographs to sign and maybe an after party to go to. But he doesn’t ask, afraid that it will remind Sander that he should go do any of those things instead of focusing on Robbe, and Sander just keeps messaging him back as quick as always.

Robbe falls asleep a few hours later after giggling so much it makes him physically exhausted, a smile on his face that he couldn’t hide even if he tried.

On Thursday he goes to uni for some last study sessions before his exam. People are still unabashedly looking at him the way they did on Tuesday when he finally showed his face, a few brave ones whispering as he passes by and trying to sneak photos. Fortunately, no one has approached him yet asking questions, and he needs to thank Yasmina for giving everyone the best stink eye she can muster that’s been keeping them away.

He goes to some classes and then hides at the library with Yasmina for the rest of the day, putting his hood up to make sure no one can spot him easily and trying to distract himself with molecular biology. Sander knows he’s studying again so he cuts down communication to only one message every other hour reminding Robbe to take a break, which is really damn thoughtful for someone who’s trying to play him like a fiddle. Or a cheap kazoo as it is. Robbe can’t help but really appreciate it, a feeling swelling in his chest that he doesn’t want to name.

At around 6 pm, Robbe and Yasmina call it quits, feeling confident and fully prepared for their exam. Unlike most of their classmates whom they can spot moaning in despair around the library, preparing themselves for a long night of studying that Robbe and Yasmina won’t need.

When he finally gets home, his three housemates are working on dinner together. Senne drops his arm around Robbe’s shoulders when he enters the kitchen and says hello, squeezing him a little bit in that brotherly way of his. Zoë winks at him from where she’s sitting at the kitchen table chopping vegetables and Milan, ever the enthusiast, yells Robbe’s name and says, “There’s our little famous boy!”

“Milan,” Robbe protests, dragging out the man’s name in his best annoyed voice.

“What?” Milan asks. He’s grinning way too wide. “You’re officially the most famous person I know!”

All of his housemates laugh and Robbe whines desperately.

“I am _not_ famous,” he complains, hiding his face in Senne’s arm who’s now shaking a little from laughing at Robbe’s predicament.

Can’t anyone just let him be?

“Ok, boys,” Zoë interjects when she notices he’s starting to turn beet red. “Let’s leave Robbe alone and get dinner ready.”

She’s Robbe’s hero.

When dinner is done they all sit around the table eating together, something they don’t often get to do with all their different and busy schedules. The topic of Sander Driesen is unofficially banned so Robbe just sits there listening to everyone talk about their week, a content smile on his face. He realizes that he’s missed spending time with all of his housemates like this, their little makeshift family just catching up on a normal Thursday night, nothing peculiar or extraordinary about it. It’s nice.

They separate when the food is gone and the dishes are done. Zoë and Senne still have to study for their own exams tomorrow so they move to their room. Milan says in a teasing tone that he knows they won’t get much studying done and Zoë shows him the finger as she walks away.

Robbe sits with Milan on the sofa when they’re gone, putting on some mindless TV show that will help his brain relax and be ready and fresh for tomorrow. He has his phone in his hands as the TV plays unwatched though, trying and failing to not get anxious over the fact that Sander hasn’t messaged him since the early afternoon. Robbe wouldn’t dare tell this to anyone; it sounds overly dependent and borderline obsessive to expect someone to message him constantly (a famous someone at that, who he's been talking to for less than a week). But the truth is that Sander _does_ message him very frequently and he always gives an excuse whenever he can’t be on his phone, but he hasn’t done that this time and Robbe can’t help but worry. He’s trying really hard not to dwell on it.

The sound of Milan exclaiming beside him startles Robbe out of his thoughts a good half an hour later. He looks over at his housemate and sees him staring at his own phone with wide eyes that he quickly turns on Robbe with laser focus.

“Sander Driesen was spotted at the airport,” he says in a rush, and then pauses for dramatic effect. “Getting on a plane to Brussels.”

Robbe’s eyebrows crinkle in confusion, not getting why this is noteworthy. Sander is worldwide famous and with concerts booked all around the world; airports are probably some of the places he sees the most.

Milan, however, seems to think this is the breaking news of the decade. He moves down the sofa towards Robbe until they’re almost on top of each other in his enthusiasm, and shoves his phone in Robbe’s face. Robbe bats at Milan’s hands and grabs the phone, finding himself looking at what seems like another Sander fan account on Instagram. Said fan has posted a photo of what is undeniably an airport judging by the large amount of people with suitcases in the background. A person is standing in the middle of the shot what looks like a few meters away, wearing black skinny jeans and a black hoodie, a green bag slung over their right shoulder.

Robbe analyses the screen, tilts his head from one side to the other and frowns. The photo is taken from behind and the hoodie is draped over the person’s head so completely that is obscures any facial features that might’ve been shown in profile otherwise. It’s not even possible to see Sander’s shock of white hair peeking through in the picture.

“How can you even tell that’s him? His face is completely covered,” Robbe says, skeptical. This is ridiculous.

Milan rolls his eyes. “That’s his signature green bag, Sherlock.”

“He has a signature green bag?”

“Yes!” Milan exclaims. The look he gives Robbe is very judging. “Besides, his fans say it’s him and you should never doubt the fans’ stalking powers.”

Robbe rolls his eyes right back at him.

“You’re way too invested in this, Milan,” he tells his friend.

“Obviously,” Milan replies with a scoff. “Not everyone gets to have a fairy-tale love story. I’m trying to live it vicariously through you.”

Robbe sputters, flustered again. How is it fair that Zoë is the only one who can let this go?

“This is not a love story!” he says feelingly.

Milan purses his lips and gives him an eyebrow raise. “That’s exactly what the oblivious character in a love story would say.”

“ _Ugh_.” Robbe exclaims.

He pushes Milan aside and shoves his phone back at him, getting up from the sofa in a haste. He grabs a pillow from the floor and hits Milan on the face with it, enjoying the noise of indignation his housemate makes.

“He’s coming to Belgium for you!” Milan sing-songs from underneath the pillow, only slightly muffled by the assault.

“Get a life, Milan!” Robbe retorts, ashamed that he’s whining a little, and hits Milan a few more times before dropping the pillow. He speed walks to his room in a quick retreat as his housemate cackles loudly, hands covering his ears to stop whatever it is that Milan still has to say from registering in his brain.

Robbe falls on his bed with a huff when he enters his room. He checks his phone again, sees that Sander still hasn’t said anything, and feels his own beliefs about Sander’s true feelings towards this situation validated once again.

Sander Driesen, coming back to Belgium for Robbe? _Yeah, right_. Like that’s ever going to happen.

*

Friday goes by quickly.

Robbe wakes up to a good morning message from Sander followed by _Good luck on your exam, I’m sure you’ll make me proud_. There’s a heart emoji at the end and that unnamed feeling in Robbe’s chest, that seems a lot like fondness and something deeper, is back tenfold. He easily forgets how unamused he was when he fell asleep last night without a new message, feeling like a yo-yo that’s going from one emotion to another so fast it almost gives him whiplash.

He goes to his exam and comes out of it feeling confident that he aced it and relieved that it’s over. The rest of the morning is spent studying for his final exam next week and having lunch with Yasmina and Luca, who seems to have been instructed not to talk about Sander (or is probably just nice enough to not go there, bless her). In the afternoon he studies some more at the library and only goes home when it’s time to get ready for his night out with Senne.

Jens blows up their text thread with increasingly sadder emojis as the hours go by, complaining about how unfair it is that he has a family dinner and can’t come out too. Moyo and Aaron are doing the same in the group chat, judging by the angry emojis Robbe can spot in the notifications, but he’s still not ready to open that can of worms so he just lets them be. He’ll have to face his friends’ questions about Sander and demands for a new vlog sooner or later, but they can wait until tomorrow; it will teach them some patience.

Max’s club is unbelievably packed when he arrives with Senne in the evening. They share a confused look as they watch dozens upon dozens of people trying to fight their way in and only just barely losing against the exasperated and overworked bouncer. It’s a Friday night and the club is a fairly popular spot, but there’s something almost frenetic about the environment and the people tonight that Robbe hasn’t experienced before and it has him on edge. He keeps his head low as Senne steers them to the bouncer and gives his name, getting them in very easily to the dismay and annoyance of everyone still waiting outside.

Inside the club it’s a little less crowded, not by much but enough that Max spots them after only a few minutes and comes rushing in their direction to greet them.

“Hey!” He bumps knuckles with Robbe before turning to Senne with a winning grin on his face. “You won’t believe what I managed to score tonight.”

Senne laughs, calm but clearly curious. “What?”

Max spreads his arms around in a gesture of grandeur. The pure glee on his face indicates that, whatever it is, it’s about to make business really good for him tonight.

“Come backstage and see for yourselves.”

They share an amused look when Max turns on his heels and starts walking towards the little backstage area. Senne puts his arm around Robbe’s shoulders to help him navigate the crowd without getting separated as they follow.

In this little private nook of the club there are only a few people, but they all seem incredibly busy as they run around dragging sound equipment and music instruments towards the modest stage that Robbe can’t fully see from this perspective. Max is talking enthusiastically to Senne, saying something about how he can’t believe he got this opportunity so last minute and how they’re going to lose their minds when he introduces them to the person he has playing for him tonight. Robbe thinks he sees Max winking at him in particular as they walk further into the room, but he finds himself distracted by a poor guy trying to assemble a drum set who just dropped a plate on his foot and is complaining loudly.

“And here he is,” Max is saying and Robbe feels Senne’s arm pull both of them to a stop.

He’s still giggling at the guy across the room, who has now managed to drop a drumstick on his head too, so it takes him a few seconds to turn back to the person Max is introducing them to. His laughter dies in his throat when he does.

Because across from him, in all his flesh and bone glory, is Sander Driesen.

Robbe feels like he’s frozen in time as he stares with his mouth open in undisguised surprise. He’s so shocked that he finds himself unable to move. He’s sure that he’s barely even breathing.

He wants to say that the singer looks the same in person as he does in photos and videos. And he does, in a way. His jawline is still well defined, just recently growing out of baby fat and becoming ungodly sharp. His eyebrows are still the same dark and sleek shadows Robbe has stared at in wonder many, many times before. His nose still has the same shape, his cheekbones the same lovely height, and his left eye is still just that little bit smaller than the right one, giving him one little, single imperfection that somehow has always only made him look even more attractive.

None of that is changed, none of that was fabricated for the public to be enticed. It’s all real and right in front of Robbe’s eyes.

But he’s also otherworldly different.

His eyes, still that indescribable mesh of color that is mostly green and a little of all colors in the rainbow, hold much more emotion than any camera has ever done justice; there's a level of intensity to them that is hard to withstand, like they're an anchor at high sea holding Robbe in with no escape, their own gravitational field making Robbe feel like a meteorite burning his way towards him in a trajectory that is entirely out of his control. His hair is a beacon of bright light in the bleakness of the rest of the club, inviting Robbe in, making him want to be so close to Sander he won’t be able to know where he ends and Sander begins. And there’s something about him, the real life, 5D version of him, that is so much softer than Robbe ever thought he’d be, and that makes Robbe want to eat himself from the inside out to stop feeling like his heart is going to give out. Because Sander is looking back at Robbe, not with the smugness and coolness he always seems to project in front of everyone else, but with a syrupy kind of look that feels like hot chocolate injected right into his veins. Robbe feels like he might start burning.

Sander takes a step forward and Robbe finds himself jumping a little in place. His heart is beating so fast and- this is unbelievable. Utterly and completely unbelievable. Maybe Robbe is the one who had a drumstick dropped on his head. Maybe he’s on the ground right now, passed out, creating all of this insanity in his head. _Concussed,_ that’s what he is.

But Sander takes a second step forward, his actions daring Robbe to deny that he’s actually here, eyes focused solely on him like there’s no one else in the room besides the two of them. There’s a brutal magnetism about him that traps Robbe in without asking for consent.

Sander is an avalanche, and Robbe is just a boy losing himself in the snow.

They must stay like that just staring silently at each other for a long time, because Senne has to clear his throat to break the moment. Sander keeps his eyes on Robbe for a few seconds longer, like he doesn’t want to stop looking for some reason Robbe just cannot understand, until he finally drags his gaze towards Senne. His eyes travel from Senne’s face to the arm he still has around Robbe’s shoulders and something in him seems to shut down at the sight.

Robbe wants to protest, wants to demand Sander to bring back the warmth in his expression, like it’s oxygen Robbe needs to keep breathing. But he’s still stuck, speechless, like his body is in lockdown while his brain keeps spinning.

He feels Senne’s arm lift off his shoulders as he extends a hand for Sander to shake.

“I’m Senne,” he says. “Robbe’s housemate.” He emphasizes the housemate title like it’s something that matters, and Robbe wishes he could get out of his funk enough to ask Senne why the hell he felt the need to introduce himself as someone in relation to Robbe instead of just saying his own name.

But for some reason that seems to bring the warmth back to Sander’s face, like something really important and pleasing just happened. Robbe watches helplessly as Sander lifts his own hand to shake Senne’s and grins at him, his white teeth shining in the dim lighting of the club.

“Sander,” he introduces himself back. And then, “Robbe’s future boyfriend.”

If Robbe’s brain wasn’t already malfunctioning, then it sure as hell would have started to now. He can’t even begin to process what Sander just said, doesn’t know if he ever will. Doesn’t even know if he _wants_ to. Sander’s words are a loaded gun and Robbe does not want to be the trigger, lest he shoot himself in the head too soon.

Sander extends his hand to Robbe then. There’s a new smile on his face that is at once soft and mischievous; conspiratorial in a way, happy and excited. He waits patiently for Robbe to get it together and put his own hand up, and when he does so with the help of Senne nudging him in the elbow, Robbe feels the first touch of their skin like electricity shooting up his peripheral nerves and travelling along his spine. The hairs in the back of his head are on end, goosebumps raising the skin despite the escalating warmth of the club. And all of it only gets worse when Sander, in a Casanova move that really should not surprise anyone by now, raises Robbe’s hand to his mouth and gently kisses his knuckles.

Robbe might never breathe again.

Someone comes calling for Sander then, announcing the stage is ready for his performance. Sander’s warm hand still holds Robbe’s between their bodies and his eyes never stray from him.

He nods to the person Robbe can’t even make himself glance at, says “One second,” and then leans closer, lowering his voice and letting his warm breath fan across Robbe's heated cheeks. “I’ll find you in the end, okay?”

Robbe finds himself nodding on autopilot. He doesn't really know what he's saying yes to, but he's too awestruck to do anything else.

Sander grins and his hand lingers on Robbe's for some long seconds, like he’s dreading letting go. Eventually though, he steps away, their hands sliding together from palm to digits to fingertips until they’re two separate beings again. Sander walks away backwards, still staring right at him until the moment he disappears from sight, and Robbe finds himself being steered away by Senne until they’re standing in front of the stage, surrounded by what he now recognizes as screaming fans who are waiting for the impromptu concert. _How could he have missed it?_

If Senne says anything Robbe doesn't hear. All that he knows is that the lights dim, Sander steps on stage, and Robbe is trapped in a daze.

He couldn’t tell you anything about the concert, except that the lights were bright and Sander Driesen never took his eyes off of him, not for one single moment. When it’s over, he stays in the same spot watching Sander be run over by excited fans demanding his attention, completely enraptured by this boy who keeps shoving his way into Robbe's life like a human sized hurricane - sweeping him in unexpectedly and leaving chaos and disorder in his wake.

Then, a flash goes off, and Robbe turns to it on instinct - it's a camera, aimed right at his face. And that's when reality comes crashing down and effectively takes him out of the Twilight Zone. Because everyone around him has just noticed he's there. He can see the recognition on many of their faces, the excitement that sparks behind their eyes, and they start coming towards him like he's a deer and they're lions starved in a cage.

So he does the only thing his brain can understand in that moment.

He runs home.

*

**Instagram user sanderdriesenupdates posted a photo:  
** [Photo of a man at the airport resembling Sander, tagged @earthlingoddity, captioned: Sander at the airport in London, getting on a plane to Brussels #sanderdriesen #sanderupdates]

**Tumblr user earthlingsander posted a text:  
** me: ok y’all calm down. sander was born in belgium, has family in belgium, has a house in belgium, has things to do in belgium. he is not going there for the cute youtuber  
also me:

  
  


**Tumblr user robbexsander posted a text:  
** sander doesn’t have any concert booked in belgium this month but he does have a concert in germany on saturday. this means that he traveled from the uk to stay in belgium for LESS THAN A DAY before he has to go to germany. and you think he’s doing it to visit family? i hafta laugh...

**Tumblr user driesensander posted a text:  
** sander’s mom watching her son come to belgium just to get the d

  
  


**Instagram user helloolly liked a photo by sanderdriesenupdates.**

**under pressure @thotsander on twitter (7h ago)  
** I JUST SAW SANDER IN ANTWERP. SANDER YOU BETTER BE GETTING YOUR BOY

**Twitter user @sanderdriesen (verified) liked a tweet by @thotsander.**

rue @wewillmoveon . 7 h  
replying to @thotsander  
SANDER LIKED TIHS DFOFKJHJKSJHF I’M SCREAMGIN

katy | sander stan @meowdriesen . 7 h  
replying to @thotsander  
there’s now one (1) tweet in sander’s likes and it’s this LMAO the way he’s not even trying to hide it...

**just another willem @facethestrangee on twitter (3h ago)  
** omg ok so i just found out through my best friend sander is giving a concert at a club in antwerp out of fucking nowhere GUESS WHO’S RUNNING

**Tumblr user sandersboots posted a text:  
** GUYS I’M AT SANDER’S CONCERT RIGHT NOW AND I JUST SAW ROBBE. THIS IS NOT A DRILL, I REPEAT!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL. HE’S BEEN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CROWD ALL THIS TIME AND NO ONE SPOTTED HIM WTF. I’M FREAKING OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**Instagram user sanderdriesenupdates posted a photo.  
** [*photo of Sander surrounded by fans at Max’s club. Robbe stands in the background, watching him*]

**Instagram user the.real.yasmina posted to their story.  
** [Black background with big white text that says “You’re welcome.”]


End file.
